


Apparition

by Mixxy



Category: Glee
Genre: Blaine is a ghost, Eventual Smut, Ghosts, I promise, Kurt is understandably freaked out, Loneliness, M/M, Paranormal, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2013-09-15
Packaged: 2017-12-21 22:14:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/905545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mixxy/pseuds/Mixxy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine's life (or, more accurately, afterlife) totally sucks. He's stuck at some awful public school in Lima, he has no idea why he's still on Earth, and worst of all, nobody knows he's there. Fifteen lonely years pass and he's given up hope that anyone will ever see him, hear him, or notice him at all.</p><p>And then one day, somebody does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The library is icy at five in the morning, and Blaine wishes for not the first time that he could feel cold. He knows it’s cold, because the windows condense and when the librarian comes in early her breath freezes over and she says something like “goddammit it’s cold as balls in here.”

“I don’t think you’ve got that phrase right,” Blaine says helpfully, leaning against the desk.

The librarian doesn’t respond and just checks the book drop. “Who the hell keeps putting these books in. Nobody checks books out anymore…damn kids, messing around in here, books aren’t toys." 

“Sorry,” Blaine says wistfully, eyeing the copy of _The Complete Adventures of Sherlock Holmes_ in her hands. “I normally shelve them myself, but I saw cobwebs forming, and I thought maybe…" 

She walks away. Blaine follows her, still talking. “It was a really good book. I hear there’s a movie out about him now. A few T.V. shows too. I wish I could see them.”

Blaine stays in the stacks for a bit longer, reaching up and picking up a copy of _Fahrenheit 451_. “I’m going to borrow this for a bit, alright?” He yells at the librarian’s retreating form as she waddles away.

He hears the first rumble of cars out in the parking lot and rushes to hide the book away before the students get there. Not that he’d ever seen that many students reading around here. Nah, now they’ve all got smartphones and tablets. He never did much reading before, either. But…when you can’t sleep and you’re stuck here for nights and _ugh, breaks_ , there’s not much else to do.

Students begin milling in, and he perches by the door, clambering up onto a ledge and sitting there as kids walk past. He supposes he’d get in trouble, if the principal caught him up here. But as it is, he just likes to be out of the way.

“Your shirt is inside out!” The kid he’s yelling at smells like weed and doesn’t look like he particularly cares.

The bell is about to ring, so he finds a class and slips in behind a girl who’s clutching coffee like it’s a lifeline.  He sits in an empty chair in the back and listens to the teacher talk about friction in a vacuum. He’s heard it before, but he likes this lecture.

“Mr. Kelly?” A boy in front whines, “It’s totally freezing in here.”

“Yes, there does seem to be a chill, doesn’t there?” The teacher taps on the radiator with a meter stick.

“Sorry,” Blaine says softly.

He doesn’t feel like going to a second hour, so he just goes to one of the study rooms that have always been empty as long as he can remember. Kids in this school don’t seem to be too concerned with studying. He lies on the floor and closes his eyes, hoping vainly that maybe this time, he’ll suddenly be able to sleep. Things would at least be a lot less _boring_ then.

For the millionth time, he tries to think of some mission, some goal he’s got to accomplish. That’s what ghosts have to do to move on, right? Accomplish something?

But he’s been here for fifteen _years_. He’s tired of waiting, tired of trying to come up with something else, tired of roaming these same unchanging halls.

He’s pretty damn lonely, too.

Sometimes he wonders if eventually he’s going to go crazy. He might be half there, already. Pretending he’s in a conversation and people are just ignoring him. Hell, pretending he goes to classes here, cheering and laughing along with the other students, just to feel like he’s part of a crowd.

At first he tried shaking people, yelling at the top of his lungs, tried to shove things over. _Notice me. I’m here_. But the feeling was just indescribably unsettling, a horrible sickening thing. When he screamed in a silent room and nobody so much as looked up. When he tried to shove something and just fell through the object. But the worst was when he tried to make contact with people and they _walked right through him_. Brr.

If he’d kept that up, he’d probably be insane already. At least this way he could keep a little bit of control.

But- seriously, why was he still here? In the ghost movies he’d seen before he died, it either had something to do with revenge or forgiveness. He’d long since forgiven those guys (well, mostly, but he didn’t dwell on that if he could help it), and he didn’t want revenge.

Was it too much to hope for at least a friend? Maybe some nice dead kid to hang out with? Or even some obnoxious dead kid, at this point, Blaine wasn’t in any position to be picky. Or, y’know, some new clothes wouldn’t be bad. His kind of screamed “1998”, which wasn’t exactly the height of fashion.

 _If I could at least call my parents_. Blaine sighs and tucks his hands behind his head, opening his eyes and looking towards the ceiling. Third period bell rings, and Blaine decides he might as well go to class- if he wants to sit along he’s got all night to do that.

The doors are mostly shut by the time he makes his way to the academic wing. He’s about to look upstairs for an open room when he sees the projector set up in an English classroom.

He presses his face against the small window longingly. _Aw, and they’re watching Lion King!_ Glancing down between his hands and the door, he makes his decision and pushes his palms flat against the wood. _Lord, I hate doing this._

He takes a deep breath- and ungracefully tumbles through the door, catching himself on a desk. “Man, that’s uncomfortable,” he complains to the lanky kid sitting in the chair, who doesn’t react except to shiver from his proximity.

Either way, he’s inside. Settling lying on his stomach between two rows of desks, he waves a hand absently at the Asian girl with blue highlights sitting next to him. “I love this part. I know all the words." 

As class ends, the kids file out, ignoring the teacher yelling at them to read the next two chapters of _Hamlet_. “Y’know,” he says, sitting on top of a table as the students pack up, “I died on the year _Mulan_ came out. I didn’t get to see it until three years later, when the Asian studies class decided to watch it.”

The teacher walks out, checking his phone as he does. “I miss movies,” Blaine says to an empty room, partially listening to the noise filtering in from the hall. “I miss TV, and video games, and music. I really miss music. But mostly I miss…acquaintances. Friends, even.”

He goes to stand next to a boy in a wheelchair. “Do you want to be my friend?”

The boy puts in his headphones and opens his laptop, pulling open a music mixing program. “Yeah, I thought not.”

Fifteen years. It wouldn’t be so bad if he knew _why_ he was here. Was it just dumb luck? He happened to bleed out on the sidewalk outside and he’s here forever now? But…everyone else gets to move on. He hasn’t met anyone else, but the sidewalks aren’t exactly full of dead people. Blaine was held back, and he has no idea why. He can’t even get out of the school.

School ends, practices end, and the faculty eventually leaves. Blaine sits in the stairwell, his favorite place in the school. The wall is mostly windows, so while the school is all dark, here is at least a little light. And he can look at the moon and the stars and pretend he isn’t here. Sometime he pretends so hard that he opens his eyes and gets heartbroken all over again when he remembers that he’ll probably never be able to leave. It downpours outside, thick drops that come down like the sky has opened up. Blaine watches as the last car filled with whooping jocks in letter jackets screeches out of the parking lot.

 _All gone_. He rests his head against the window. _Just me_.

He sits in his favorite spot in the alcove on a window sill and pulls the book he hid earlier from under the loose plating. He’ll read until it gets too dark, and even then sometimes by the light of the moon, if it’s bright enough. At least he doesn’t have to worry about straining his eyes.

He’s absorbed in the book, so he doesn’t even hear the dripping noises. He becomes aware of them when a voice speaks. “Hey, you.”

He blinks, coming out of this reading stupor, then shrugs. Huh. He thought everyone had gone home. Oh well. He doesn’t feel like following this straggler around- it’s been a long day and he’s tired.

“Hey, buddy. Come on.” _Probably yelling into a cell phone_ , Blaine thinks, and buries himself deeper in the book.

“Hey!” The shout echoes in the stairwell and Blaine finally looks up, only to suddenly feel his heart stop in his chest and his breath freeze in his throat.

A pair of striking blue eyes are staring right at him.

_They_

_see_

_me_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt makes an entrance, Blaine is a bit overeager, and ghosts freak people out for a reason.

Kurt Hummel was having a _fucking terrible day_ , thanks for asking.

First his car started making grinding noises when he pressed on the brakes, probably meaning that the ABS system was messed up and that meant a fix that would involve being covered head to toe with grease and take hours that he didn’t have right now.

And he did have any hours for it because in English class, he’d gotten stuck with a group project full of slackers and stoners which meant if he wanted a good grade he’d have to do all of the work.

Then at lunch, when he was really looking forward to some peace and quiet, Rachel had talked nonstop about her newest Finn problem, despite Kurt telling her he really didn’t want to hear about his brother’s issues with kissing. He ended up snapping at her, and she’d looked hurt and run off and he still felt terrible about it.

And then after glee practice, when he was looking forward to going home, nope. He’d told Finn he’d grab a ride with Tina, but a few jocks stole his books and he hadn’t found them in the parking lot until she’d left, assuming he ended up going home with Finn after all.

Of course it started downpouring then, soaking him and his books. And of course his phone would be completely dead so he couldn’t call his dad. The cherry on the sundae? There was no one in the entire goddamn school. Everyone else had gone home.

He’s wet, cold, exhausted, pissed off, and has no idea how he was going to call home now.

What he really _doesn’t_ need is this asshole who’s probably the last person left besides him, and is currently ignoring him with his stupid-ass book. Fuck that book. Fuck this guy.

And when Kurt finally loses it and yells, the guy looks up at him all doe-eyed and innocent. And _dammit_ , he’s hot. His clothes are a little outdated, but Kurt would still definitely do him. Any other time Kurt would engage in a little friendly flirting, but now? Hell no.

“Yeah, hi.” He tucks a piece of hair behind his ear and wonders how much of a drowned rat he looks like right now. “Sorry, but I lost my ride, and my cell’s dead. Can I borrow yours for a sec?”

The boy makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat and gapes at Kurt. He just kind of shifts, feeling really uncomfortable under his stare. “Listen, I just need to call my dad. Okay?”

The book drops and Kurt glances down where it’s lying half-open on the ground. “Uh, you dropped your-“

“You can see me?” The boy is on his feet now, still staring at Kurt with wide hazel eyes.

“…Yeah, you’re not as hidden in that corner as you think you are. I hate to cut the small talk, but I really need-“

“Oh my god.” The boy lets out a shaky breath, tilting his face up and looking at the ceiling. “I can’t…oh my god, you have no idea…”

Kurt tilts his head. “Look, are you okay?”

“I’m _great._ Better than ever now.” His face breaks into a grin and he takes an eager step towards Kurt. “Why are you all wet? Did you drown or something?”

“Did I…? Uh, no…”

“Sorry, sorry, I get it, it’s personal, right? But do you know why you’re here? Did anyone tell you or something? ‘Cause I’ve been here for so long, you have no idea- Oh, I’m Blaine by the way.” He half-reaches out his hand like he’s going to offer it to shake but almost instinctually flinches and pulls it back.

 _Crazy but harmless_ , Kurt assesses in his mind, taking in the wide smile and the way this guy- Blaine- is almost bouncing on the soles of his feet. “Kurt,” he finally offers, relaxing his stance a bit.

“Kurt.” Blaine rolls it around on his tongue like it’s music. “So how long have you been, y’know, around?”

Kurt raises an eyebrow. Is that a weird way of asking his age? “Um…eighteen?”

“Eighteen years? Wow, that’s even longer than me. I’ve only been here for fifteen.”

Fifteen? Oh, **_fuck._** Talk about jailbait. So much for the little piece of satisfaction he was getting over thinking less-than-clean thoughts about the new kid he met. “So you’re a freshman, then?”

“Huh?”

“Anyway, can I just borrow your phone? I promise I’ll only use it for a second.”

“Oh. Um…” Blaine looks at him like he’s completely confused. Kurt fights back the urge to say _phone? Talk? English?_ “I don’t…have one…I…didn’t think that was possible…”

Dammit. Kurt sighs, rubbing a hand through his hair. “Okay. It’s been nice chatting, but I really gotta find someone with a phone. My dad’s gonna worry. So…seeya.”

“No, no, no, no, no.” Blaine sounds frantic and steps towards Kurt. Little alarm bells begin to sound in Kurt’s mind and he clutches his books a little tighter. “You can’t leave. You can’t. Please…I- I’ve been alone for so long, you have no idea.”

“You keep saying that,” Kurt mumbles and steps back.

“Can’t you stay? For just a little longer? Just…spend the night, maybe?” Blaine keeps coming at him, and Kurt keeps walking backwards.

“Uh…” He feels his back hit the wall, and raises a hand defensively. “Hang on there, jailbait. I’m flattered-“ And _fuck_ does he want to- “but I’m gonna have to turn that down.”

“No, Kurt, come on, I’ve never met another dead person. I have so many questions.”

 _Dead person?! What the actual fuck?!?_ “Hey, back off,” Kurt says, because now Blaine is freaking him out, and he reaches out with the free hand not holding his books to do that whole “hey man u wanna fight me” shoulder-shove thing that the jocks always do.

Except it doesn’t go quite so smoothly.

He must have missed his shoulder or something because instead of meeting resistance he meets nothing and tumbles forward, landing on the ground with his books strewn around him. It doesn’t make sense- Blaine was right there, how did he just _fall_ , but he’s not focused on that because _ow_ , his chest suddenly hurts, just a pang, and then it’s gone. He’s left lying on his back, blinking up at Blaine who looks like he just saw a ghost.

“You- you went right through me.” He touches his chest. “I- I didn’t-“ Kurt doesn’t reply, still getting his breath back from landing on the ground. Blaine kneels down, hovering over him. Their faces are about three inches apart, and Kurt really should tell him to back off, but the words stick in his throat. “Are you alive?” Blaine whispers.

“Yeah,” Kurt breathes, sitting up. Blaine quickly pulls back. “What else would I be?”

“How can you see me? If you’re alive, how. Can. You. _See_. Me?”

“And what are you, then?” Kurt says, rubbing his arm where he fell and getting cranky again. He’s gonna have a bruise there for sure. “You’re not alive?”

“N-No. Kurt, I’ve been dead for fifteen years.”

Kurt laughs, looking around at his scattered books and trying to take inventory. “Okay, then. Sure. So you’re, what? A zombie? Vampire?”

“Ghost.” Blaine says, trembling. “That’s what I think, at least. A ghost. All I know is that I’m still here, and nobody can see me, until _you_.”

“Alright. Casper.” Kurt props himself up. “Listen. It’s been swell. Next time you’re on this side of the afterlife, come look me up, okay? And advice- next time you pick a bullshit made-up creature, try a werewolf. I hear they’re much sexier.”

Blaine still looks shocked and a little horrified. “Kurt, this- nobody living has ever been able to see me. Or hear me or…anything. _Ever._ ”

“Can we stop?” Kurt’s getting a lot less amused, and a lot more annoyed. “Okay, I have had a _shit_ day. Anything and everything has gone wrong. My car needs a ton of work, I have a whole project to do by my own damn self, and I’m soaked. I really don’t have any time for you and your oh-I’m-a-ghost bullshit. Go talk to Miss Pillsbury if you’re having issues like that. Because I have my own fucking problems, okay? I have to get perfect grades this semester so I can get the fuck out of this town, I’m the only gay kid around and I take so much shit for it, and oh, I’m stuck at school with no way to contact my dad because you won’t even let me borrow your fucking phone. So Casper, either stop with the crazy or just stop following me, alight? I’m done, with this _school_ and this _town_ and _you_ and everyone. I’m going to go now, and _Jesus Christ what the fuck are you looking at?_ ”

Halfway through Kurt’s rant, Blaine had looked down and had stared, seeming to not even hear Kurt anymore. Kurt hisses- he never liked being ignored- and glances in the same direction to see what the hell is so interesting.

And his blood freezes.

Because Blaine’s hand _should_ be laid over Kurt’s. It should be covering Kurt’s. But it’s not.

_They are occupying the same space._

**_Kurt’s hand is going right through Blaine’s._ **

And Kurt’s eyes grow to the size of dinner plates, and he can feel his pulse thudding in his ears. Blaine withdraws his hand quickly, rubbing the back of it like it got burned.

He’s still kneeling next to Kurt so when Kurt sits up, putting one hand behind him for support, he comes face-to-face with him. He raises one shaking hand to press it against Blaine’s chest.

It goes right through.

Blaine makes a little gasping noise and his eyelids flutter. Kurt holds his breath and keeps going, feeling like he’s in a trance. There’s a second where he sees his hand coming out of Blaine’s back and then he gets a flash of

_Blood seeping through his fingers and a metallic taste in his mouth and he can’t breathe-_

And he pulls back so quickly he ends up falling over again. Blind panic flares in his mind, blocking out everything in a haze of _run._ The fight-or-flight instinct kicks in and he begins hyperventilating, scrambling away from _the fucking ghost_ as fast as he can.

“Kurt, wait-“ Blaine reaches out and that’s all it takes for Kurt to break and just like that he’s up, leaving his books on the ground where they fell, sprinting away. He takes the corner so quickly he slides into the wall, but he doesn’t even feel any pain through the fear.

Through the sound of his breathing he hears Blaine calling, but he doesn’t catch Kurt and soon Kurt’s out the door, wiping rain out of his eyes. He looks back, once, and sees Blaine standing in the doorway, and that’s enough to make him not look back all the way home.

“Hey, man.” Finn comes out of the kitchen, half-covered in batter. “I’m trying to make dinner, but how- Wow, dude, are you okay? You’re soaking wet and breathing all heavy. Did you walk home? Why didn’t you just call me?”

Kurt can’t catch his breath enough to speak so he just shakes his head and presses his back against the door, as if leaning on it harder will keep the ghosts out.

“You’re bleeding, man. What happened?”

Kurt wipes blood from his split lip- probably happened when he ran into the wall- and decides not to tell anyone about the ghost. Delusion? From the safety of home it seems a lot less possible- actually, it’s _not_ possible. And he’s cool with people not thinking he’s crazy, thanks. He was just…overtired. Overstressed. Somebody was fucking with him. Either way, there’s no such things as ghosts. His mind was just playing tricks on him.

But he might stay home from school tomorrow. Not because of the ghost-delusion at all, no, he’s just feeling a little feverish. Nothing to do with the ghost-delusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw, poor babies, they don't understand each other. Though to be fair, the whole hand-through-the-chest-thing was pretty damn freaky.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blaine searches, loses hope, and is unintentionally really creepy.

Kurt isn’t at school the next day.

Blaine checks, he really does. He watches every kid walking in like a hawk. When Kurt doesn’t walk in, he waits an extra half hour in case he’s late. After that, he goes from classroom to classroom and looks through all of them. Every single one. He searches the lunchroom. After school, he stands by the doorway, once again checking for that beautiful face. And he looks through all the after-school clubs, the sports teams, peers outside at the students smoking weed under the bleachers. He doesn’t see Kurt anywhere.

He really doesn’t mean to be creepy, but after being alone for fifteen years, and then the first person who can see him is not only his age, but attractive as heck- it’s all kind of overwhelming. And he’s going to go completely insane if he even _thinks about_ the fact that Kurt might never come back and he might be alone again.

Alone, he plays out the meeting in his head over and over again, even the parts that make him cringe. He remembers Kurt’s lips saying his name, someone finally _acknowledging_ him. The way Kurt’s eyes lit up when he got angry. He even imagines he could feel some sort of heat- despite the fact that he hadn’t felt temperature in years-  coming off Kurt when their faces were so close. _I wish I could have kissed him_.

He jerks up from where he’s lying on the windowsill of a science classroom. Where the hell did _that_ come from? Going after guys…that’s what got him in trouble in the first place. He touches his chest gently, willing himself to calm down. Besides, he hasn’t had any feelings like _that_ ever since he died. He thought he couldn’t anymore. You know, no blood, no…blood flow down there. And he isn’t turned on or anything, but the flicker of an urge to kiss Kurt was more than he’s ever felt before. It’s unnerving.

Kurt isn’t there the next day.

Or the next.

Then it’s the weekend.

And Kurt isn’t there on Monday.

Blaine’s beginning to think he just imagined him. It feels so cruel, that the universe might have finally given him someone who could see him, talk to him, hear him, and then snatched him back away. Blaine cries in the night unashamedly. He had found hope, for just a moment, and the loss of that hope hurts more than he could have imagined.

Tuesday, Blaine watches the students again as they file in. The bells rings, and he no longer has any emotions left at all. He’s just a shell of what used to be hurt. He can’t look any longer. He can’t do this anymore.

He goes to the one place he feels kind of safe- the library. He walks in, planning to hide in the back of the stacks and maybe just have some quiet, maybe just haunt that little section of the library for the rest of his days.

And then he stops like he ran into a wall.

Because that boy, Kurt, is sitting at a desk, looking pale and tired, but he’s still _there_. Blaine isn’t crazy. Kurt exists. And he’s here. Thank any god there might be, because Kurt is here.

Blaine is shocked and not really sure what to feel. They’re secluded from the rest of the library, tucked way in the back, and it’s not like many people are in here anyway. He automatically reaches out to lean against the chair nearest to him and is surprised when his hand makes contact. When he tries to move the chair, it passes on through, but when he just rests his hand on it, it’s solid.

That’s new.

But Blaine really can’t worry about that, because he’s focused on Kurt. He phases through the chair and sits down slowly, feeling more and more freaked out by the second when he finds he can sit on it and not fall through like usual.

Kurt’s staring down at a book, head supported by his arms. Blaine can’t stop looking. He’s just so beautiful. How did he never notice him in this school before?

Then Kurt looks up at him, the kind of quick glance you do when you feel like someone’s staring at you and you aren’t sure if you’re paranoid or not. His eyes lock on Blaine’s and once again Blaine feels a thrill as someone finally _sees_ him.

Kurt’s eyes widen and his pupils shrink to pinpricks. His mouth narrows to a thin line and he looks like he may have forgotten how to breathe.

“Don’t be scared,” Blaine says, holding his hands up in a show of harmlessness. He chooses his words carefully this time.

Kurt leans so far away from him Blaine is worried his chair will tip backwards. He notices the tightness in his muscles a minute too late. “Please don’t run, I-“

But Kurt’s gone, tipping the chair over as he scrambles to get away.

“Fuck,” Blaine sighs, dropping his head to the table. He phases through and ends tumbling on the ground. He’s not even going to question why his tangibility ran out, he’s just going to lie here forever.

But Kurt’s here, at least for today. He has to find him.

Resolve strengthened, he gets up and sets out. He’s a ghost on a mission. Try and stop him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long. School and all. But next chapter, you'll finally be getting some interaction other than Kurt running away.

**Author's Note:**

> Like this fic? Like ghost!Klaine? Want to fan out, giggle over the eventual smut, or just bug me about getting this done faster? Follow me [here](www.mixxtapej.tumblr.com) and feel free to send me a message.


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